


Finer Print

by RisingPhoenix761



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Animal Abuse, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Bondage, Consensual Sex, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Crowley's snark, F/F, F/M, Forced Masturbation, Genital Torture, Gun Kink, I can't believe this thing is finally done, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magic, Object Insertion, Possession, Queen of Hell!Lilith, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Violent Sex, if no one reads this I'll probably cry, just saying, young Lilith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingPhoenix761/pseuds/RisingPhoenix761
Summary: Bela Talbot's time is almost up. Ten years after making a deal to escape abuse, she's earned a reputation as a thief and scam artist, a reputation that draws the attention of the Queen of Hell and the King of the Crossroads. With the clock ticking on her contract, Lilith and Crowley offer her a new deal to buy back her soul and avoid damnation. But striking deals with the First Demon is more treacherous than Bela knows, and Lilith doesn't take betrayal lightly...





	Finer Print

"Here it is, as promised." 

"This better be worth the price."

"For the price, I wouldn't dream of cheating you."

The man gave her a final scowl before trading the envelope of cash he held for the bundle in her hand, carefully wrapped and tied neatly with string. A quick glance told her it was the amount they agreed on--they both knew the consequences of short-changing each other. She tucked it into her purse while he stowed his prize in his coat, and they parted ways without another word.

She set off up the sidewalk towards her car, parked next to a flashing meter. She took her keys out as she approached and moved to unlock the driver's side door with a look up the street for any passersby.

"Dreary evening, isn't it?"

The unexpected voice behind her startled her so badly, she almost dropped her keys. Readjusting her grip, she turned to the man standing nearby. "I'd have to agree with you," she replied, searching for the right key. 

"A good night, though," he added, looking up at the overcast sky and then down the deserted street. "Perfect for whatever errands you don't want to be caught at."

She halted a moment, thrown off guard by the strange remark, then moved with a bit more haste to get her key into the car door. Sliding into the driver's seat, she slammed the door and tripped the locks, then glanced in the mirror at the man on the sidewalk. Something about him, maybe his abrupt appearance or his ominous words, seemed...not right.

"Oh, you're not leaving, are you?"

A scream leapt to her throat, but her hands moved for the gun stashed in her purse. She pointed it at the shape in her passenger seat. After a closer look, she realized it was...the man from the sidewalk. 

"I was hoping for a chat," he explained.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded. She didn't hear an accent, or at least not an accent she had grown accustomed to hearing in America. Whoever he was, he was as foreign as she was. And a magician, apparently; she looked past him to the locked door. How did he do that?

"The name's Crowley," he replied. "And I've been looking all over for you, Bela, darling."

Her grip on the gun faltered a hair, and her heart started to race. "How do you know me?"

"I pay attention," he replied. "You have a certain, shall we say, notoriety."

"But what do you _want?"_

"To chat," he repeated. He raised his hands, open and empty in a gesture of surrender. "No tricks or ulterior motives. Just negotiations."

Bela loosened her grip on the gun, but she didn't lower it. "Why?"

"I need something from you. And I believe I can help you with a tiny little problem of yours."

She scoffed. "What problem? What do you think you know about me?"

He gave a small, sly smile. "Don't play innocent, Bela. I know all about your deal."

"What deal?" She spoke dismissively, but her heart raced even faster and her breath caught in her chest. How could he know about _that?_

"You struck a bargain, didn't you?" he asked. "Daddy wouldn't stop touching you, and Mummy wouldn't stop looking the other way, so a new friend wiped them off the slate for you. But not for free, no. Nothing like that comes without a price."

"Stop," she said, finger tightening on the trigger again, though her hand started to shake.

"Orphaned yet liberated," Crowley went on, unconcerned with the gun in his face, "but only for another decade. Then after that, time to pay the Piper, and he wants your soul."

Silence hung heavy in the wake of his words. Outside, the clouds had broken and rain began to fall, and the tap of the drops on the roof of the car was the only sound for several long moments. Finally, Bela spoke. 

"How do you know about that?"

"As I said, darling," he told her, turning to face her. He blinked, and his eyes went from a handsome brown to lurid scarlet, and she drew in a breath of shock. "I pay attention."

"It's...it's not time," she argued, "I've still got-"

"Calm down, love," he soothed, his eyes going back to normal--normal for the human he was possessing, anyway. "I'm not here to collect. Ten years is ten years, after all."

Bela finally lowered the gun, but her hand was still shaking. Shooting him wouldn't do any good. He was a bloody crossroads demon. 

Everything he said about her deal was true. She still thought about that day, more often than she cared to, when that little girl approached where she sat on the swing. She had just spoken with her mother, pleading with her, weeping a child's tears for a monstrous wound.

_Dad was in my room again last night…_

The pain, the rage, was as potent as ever. Mum wouldn't believe her. She _knew_ the truth, but instead called her daughter a liar.

That little girl offered to take Bela's pain away. She sounded so old when she spoke and acted even older, but she looked much younger than Bela was, back when she was still called Abbie. It would be easy, the girl told her. All she had to do was say yes, and everything would stop.

A very short time later, it did. The clock had been counting down ever since.

She sat in her car, staring at Crowley, and he stared back, matching her confusion and wariness with calm and confidence bordering on arrogance. "The last time someone offered to help me with a problem," she said, "it marked me for damnation."

"Yes, darling," he replied with exaggerated patience, "I know. I've offered help to a fair few in my time."

"You mean...the little girl? That was you?"

"Of course not. One of my subordinates." He took in her blank expression and elaborated. "King of the Crossroads, Bela, love. Every deal, every contract, it all comes to yours truly. Every demon closing a new one reports to me. Every soul bought and sold into the Pit goes in the books as mine." He paused, his smile turning self-indulgent. "I keep up a strong quota, if I do say so myself."

"So, that means…"

He nodded. "I hold _your _contract, darling. And before the year is out, my hounds _will _come for you...Unless you agree to my proposal."

Another moment passed with only the rain against the windows and distant thunder to break the stillness while his words sank in. She held her breath for a beat, then let it out with a hesitant question, "What proposal?"

He gestured to the steering wheel. "Drive."

"What propos-"

Crowley snapped his fingers and the engine turned over, revving twice before pulling away from the curb, and Bela grabbed the wheel out of reflex, stomping on the brake while the car sped on despite her efforts.

"Are you insane?" she burst out, trying to regain control of the car on the rain-slicked road.

"Merely in a hurry, sweetheart," he replied. "I've arranged a meeting with someone who is quite anxious to speak with you."

"Who? And what proposal are you talking about?" She didn't dare take her eyes off the road long enough to look at him, but she had a feeling he was smiling again. 

"Come now, you can't ask me to ruin the surprise."

"Then shouldn't you at least tell me where we're heading?" She focused on keeping her voice steady as if his answer was of no consequence and hoped he didn't notice the tremor in the question.

"Relax, Bela. It's all under control."

She sat tense for a moment more until she noticed she was doing nothing to steer the car. The wheel beneath her hands turned and straightened without her guidance, presumably taking them wherever Crowley intended them to go. She slowly released the steering wheel and lowered her hands before easing back in her seat and turning to face the demon beside her.

He gave her a curt nod. "Now then, a bit of background info before we arrive. You've got only a few months left before I call your number. You can spend that time running the same petty scams, or you can make yourself useful and possibly make your lot a little easier. We're going to meet an associate of mine who is interested in your skills and has quite a generous offer for you. Use those skills and fetch something she values very much, and we'll reconsider your contract."

Bela looked from him to the road and back again. "What associate? What does she want? And what part of my contract are you reconsidering?"

He gave her a wry look. "What part do you think, darling? The part where you're ripped to pieces by hellhounds and your soul claimed for Hell. Is that incentive enough for you?"

She almost didn't want to believe him. With the end of her decade drawing closer, her nightmares grew worse and worse, feverish imaginings of what would happen to her when her deal was called in. She spent her waking hours, when she wasn't stealing and scamming, researching all the lore she could find on crossroads deals and hellhounds, seeking out every ward and talisman against the forces fated to come for her. Even as they spoke, she had hex bags and goofer dust among her belongings. Offering her a get-out-of-jail-free card at the eleventh hour seemed far too good to be true.

"I can't do much in the way of good faith offerings," he added, "but why not check your jacket pocket for me?"

Her brow furrowed and she slid her hand into her pocket, fingers brushing against a paper packet. She drew it out and opened it; there was a bundle of herbs inside like nothing she had seen before.

"Devil's shoestring," he answered before she could ask. "A ward against the hounds. A little more hard-wearing than that dust in your purse." He chuckled at her expression. "Not as likely to be disturbed if a big bad wolf tries to huff and puff."

"Why are you giving me this?"

"I figured you'll sleep a little easier with the extra protection, so you'll be sharp for the job. Or enjoy what shut-eye you can get before...well. Before."

Bela's hand trembled slightly as she folded the packet again and returned it to her pocket. His eyes followed the quiver of her fingers, but she doubted he needed the visual proof to know how shaken she was. He seemed to know everything in her mind just by looking at her. 

"Do I have your attention, Bela, darling?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "You do."

"Good."

The car pulled off the road and she heard gravel crunch under the tires before she turned and looked through the windshield. They were coasting up a long drive lined with elegant birch trees, heading towards a large, equally elegant house. The trees held off the rain, but the wind rustling through the leaves created an eerie backdrop that drowned out the thunder, and Bela felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Crowley stayed silent until they were parked and the engine died. He turned to Bela with a nod toward the house. "Inside. She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Pulse drumming louder than ever, Bela followed him into the house.

There were very few lights on inside, and Bela found the stillness oppressive. Crowley led her with no hesitation, down the hallway and around the corner into the living room, with her trailing behind until a soft, pitiful whine up ahead made her stop.

The whine grew louder, followed by a delighted, girlish giggle. A sickening crunch rang out, along with the loud, shrill cry of a frightened animal in pain. The giggle turned into a gleeful laugh, and Bela felt her stomach turn, of half a mind to get back in her car and drive away, deal or no deal. Something in that awful laugh terrified her, and she wanted nothing to do with whoever created it.

Crowley glanced around the corner again, looking impatient. "Bela," he said, "come in. She's waiting for you." But a wet, squelching noise froze her in place, and she didn't move.

There was a final yelp, and silence fell in the next room. He beckoned with one hand, and something pushed against her, square between her shoulders, making her stumble forward. She regained her footing, and there was another push, and then another, until she began walking of her own volition. 

A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm light on the room. It looked like almost any other living room, if a bit more poshly furnished: Sofa and armchairs designed more for style than comfort, glass and mahogany coffee table, a fancy bookcase organized far too aesthetically for anyone to read anything from it. It looked more like a showroom than someone's home.

Crowley stood behind her, and set a hand on her shoulder as if holding her in place. "Bela," he said, "allow me to introduce you to Lilith."

It was then that Bela noticed the little girl kneeling on the floor in front of the fire. Her brown hair was pulled back with a barrette and she wore a pale blue dress, stained down the front with bright red blood. She looked up at the sound of her name and sprang to her feet. Bela tried not to look at the small, oddly-shaped mass left on the floor behind her, but morbid curiosity drew her eyes to it. A small dog lay motionless, limbs broken to unnatural angles, half-skinned and gutted. 

Bile rose in Bela's throat and she nearly gagged.

The little girl walked closer, looking Bela up and down while wiping her bloody hands on her dress. "Is this her?" she asked, the timber of her voice high and youthful, the tone naive and innocent. "She doesn't look like a thief to me."

"And you don't look like Lucifer's chosen one, either, Your Royal Highness," Crowley told her, the words just overblown enough to be insolent. "Lilith here is the first demon ever created," he explained to Bela. "There's no one higher than her, apart from the Morningstar himself. Queen of Hell, commander of our forces."

"So you'd better be nice to me," the child warned, her eyes briefly going completely white. She smiled up at Bela, then ran forward and threw her arms around her waist. "It's so nice to meet you, Bela!"

"It's...nice to meet you, too," Bela replied, trying to reconcile the image of this child who tortured animals with the idea of the most powerful demon in existence.

Lilith released her, then took a few steps back. "Mr. Crowley says you can help find something for me. Is that true?"

"I can do my best," Bela answered.

"'My best, _Your Highness_,'" Crowley corrected.

"Yes," Bela hurriedly agreed, "Your Highness. What do you want me to find?"

"A new toy." Lilith moved to the nearest armchair and hopped into it, her feet dangling a few inches from the floor. She moved her hands along the arm rests, smearing blood on the expensive upholstery. "Have you heard of a man named Samuel Colt?"

"I have," Bela replied. "He was an American gunsmith. Something of a legend of the Wild West."

"He was a hunter, too," Lilith told her. "He made a special gun to hunt with that can kill anything."

Bela frowned slightly, wondering if she understood correctly. "You mean..._anything?"_

"_Almost_ anything," Crowley clarified, stepping forward to stand beside Lilith's chair and lean against it with one elbow propped on the back. "No one's really tested it on _everything_, you understand."

"And I want it," Lilith finished. "You're going to get it for me."

"Of course." Bela stood straighter and lifted her chin a bit higher, trying to regain some of her composure. "Of course, Your Highness. I'll have to do some searching to find a trail-"

"Oh, I already know where it is," she interrupted, a singsong lilt in her voice and a bright smile on her face. "Sam and Dean Winchester have it."

Crowley smirked. "You're familiar with them, are you not?"

"I...am," Bela answered. "A bit."

"Good!" said Lilith. "You can get it from them!"

Crowley nodded. "We’ve come to that proposal, Bela, darling. Liberate that gun from the Winchesters, and you can have your soul back."

Bela laughed, though there was little humor in it. "Steal anything from the Winchesters?" she asked. "Especially something that valuable? Dean would have killed me over his _car_."

"Good thing I don't want his car," Lilith replied. "A gun should be easier."

"That's not just any gun, though, is it? They'll keep that thing secured around the clock. I wouldn't be surprised if they carried it on them."

"Mr. Crowley said you're the best." The cheery tone disappeared, replaced by petulance, and Lilith gave an exaggerated pout. "If you can't do it, then you're not the best. And if you're not the best, then either Mr. Crowley is lying, or your best isn't good enough and you're useless." She looked up at Crowley and stroked her hand along his arm in a gesture that looked far too intimate. "Are you lying to me, Mr. Crowley?" she asked.

"Of course not, my queen," he replied, smiling down at her. "That's just bad business."

She smiled back and looked at Bela. "He's not lying. So you must be useless."

"No, I-I never said I couldn't do it," Bela rushed to respond. "It's going to be difficult, that's all. If they catch me, they _will_ kill me."

"You think I won't?"

"Remember, Your Highness," Crowley broke in, "she's still under contract. Can't violate the terms of her deal."

Bela breathed a sigh of relief.

Crowley looked at her like he knew what she was thinking, then added, "But you don't have to kill her to persuade her."

"Good point." Lilith snapped her fingers and Bela's legs broke with a crack like a gunshot. She let out a scream and crumpled to the floor, screaming even louder as she landed with her legs beneath her.

"Oh, she's loud!" Lilith exclaimed excitedly. "I want to see how loud she can get!" She gestured, and the fingers of Bela's left hand snapped one by one, folding backwards and sideways, then her wrist twisted, and Bela couldn't even hear her own bones breaking over her cries of pain. 

"Louder!" Lilith ordered in a shout. "Scream louder!" She raised her hand and the skin peeled away from Bela's right hand while she watched, and there was no room to think about anything but the agony of it.

"Should I keep going?"

"I think, Highness, she's trying to say something."

Lilith relented and it took a few moments for Bela to catch her breath enough to beg through gasps and tears, "Please, _please_ stop…"

"You understand how much she wants that gun?" Crowley asked.

Bela nodded, sobbing.

"You don't have much time before your contract is up," he reminded her. "You'll be working against the clock."

She nodded again. 

Both demons stared down at her, the well-dressed gentleman and the bloodstained child, and through the pain Bela couldn't think of anything she wouldn't do to keep herself out of their clutches. They wanted a gun? She'd steal Excalibur itself for them, if that would earn her freedom.

Crowley raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. "Does that mean we have an agreement?" 

Bela gave one last, shaky nod. "Yes. We do."

Lilith clapped her hands in excitement and jumped down from the chair, rushing over to where Bela lay. Bela flinched away, crying out when the movement disturbed her injuries.

"I'm going to patch you up, silly," Lilith chided. "You can't steal anything with no hands or legs." She snapped her fingers and Bela's bones straightened and fused back together with several loud _pop_s, and with a wave, the flayed skin repaired itself. 

"There," she said, "good as new."

"How generous," Crowley remarked. "Bela, sweetheart, you should thank Her Highness for fixing you up so tidily."

Trembling violently, struggling to catch her breath, Bela swallowed hard and obeyed in a timorous voice. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Lilith smiled and leaned down, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I think we're going to be good friends," she said. She motioned with her hand, and Bela stood so quickly, she didn't know if she got to her feet on the speed of her fear or if magic forced her. Lilith put her arms around her again for another enthusiastic embrace, then released her and backed away several steps to look up at her. "You'll get me that Colt, right?" she asked. There was a dark note of _or else_ in her tone.

Bela nodded. "Of course, Your Highness," she replied. "I'm the best."

"Good." She returned to her chair and rang a handbell on the end table beside it, and a middle-aged woman entered the room moments later, frightened and tearful. "Clean it up," Lilith ordered, pointing at the dog on the floor. "Crowley, take Miss Bela away. She'd better get moving if she's going to get my gun in time."

Crowley led Bela from the room as the woman let out a cry, seeming to recognize the dog. Bela hurried to follow through the house and back to the front door. The rain had carried on as though nothing untoward had happened, and the mundanity of it seemed surreal after the events of the past half hour. Yet, Bela grasped onto all those mundane details to ground her; if she didn't, she might go mad. 

"Who was _that?"_ she asked, nodding back into the house. 

Mundane details.

"Former homeowner," Crowley answered, "turned hostess. I wouldn't worry myself about her if I were you, darling."

Right. Bela had other things to worry about, like stealing an invaluable weapon from the Winchester brothers before her contract was due and her soul condemned for eternity. An impossible task, with unthinkable consequences.

Crowley studied her with a tilt of his head. "Don't look so gloomy, Bela. Your chances just went up."

"Up where?" she argued. "I've brushed elbows with the Winchesters before. Do you know how unlikely it is I'll ever lay eyes on that Colt, much less take it from them?"

"Come on, love, you're not going to throw in the towel already, are you?" he asked, giving her a charming smile. "You have nothing to lose, and the chance to make sure everyone gets what they want."

"You're so eager to give up a soul?"

She couldn't quite describe the look he gave her, traces of pity and contempt twisted into a smirk like he knew something beyond her comprehension. "It's more like selling stock to buy out the whole corporation."

"And that means…?"

"Sorry, love. That's more of a need-to-know affair." He motioned her towards her car and it hummed to life. The headlights flickered on, illuminating where they stood, just as Bela's phone rang in her pocket. When she checked the caller ID, it read a simple "666". 

"Keep in touch," Crowley added by way of farewell

"Right," she replied, "I'll...do that." She turned away without another word and hurried through the rain to the car, taking several deep breaths once she was behind the wheel. She was covered in dog blood from Lilith's hugs. Her hands still trembled. She needed to be steady enough to drive in the storm.

_Steal the Colt, buy back her soul_.

It almost sounded easy when she put it like that.

Bela had planned break-ins and heists before, but this was ridiculous.

Samuel Colt's gun was notorious to the point of literal legend. There was no telling how many people knew it really existed, but she doubted the number added up to more than a mere handful. Any hunter that kept it in their possession would be sure to secure it beyond reasonable measures. And knowing Sam and Dean Winchester, it wouldn't surprise her if they kept it stowed up their arseholes at all times.

The problem with stealing anything from them wouldn't be so much about the stealing itself, but tracking them down in the first place. 

Bela paced back and forth in her living room, brainstorming potentialities. It had been a little over a week since the meeting with Crowley and Lilith, and she had made her way back to her apartment in Queens to get her bearings and plan the theft. She was still on edge after her encounter with the demon queen, waking up from nightmares of blood and torture that left her tense and shaken. She searched the lore on her return, and what she learned was far from encouraging. From what was written about Lilith, Bela was fortunate to have _only_ been tortured, much less given a chance to escape. If she failed…

Best not think about that. Better to focus on the Winchesters.

But how to _find_ the bloody Winchesters? They treated hunting like a holy crusade, saving helpless humanity from the big bad monsters they never even knew existed, and of course they traveled all over the States to do it. Moving from one case to the next the way they did, even they probably didn't know where they were going next.

Cursing in frustration, Bela dropped onto her sofa and massaged her temples. She could feel the pressure of a migraine building behind her eyes; if she didn't take something right away, she'd be laid out within the hour.

She fetched aspirin from the medicine cabinet and washed them down with cold coffee, staring into the bottom of the mug as if a good plan would write itself in the dregs. Meanwhile, the clock on the wall kept ticking, bringing her closer and closer to the end of her contract.

She abandoned the coffee and went back to the living room, grabbing her phone from the table next to the sofa. She didn't even bother searching her contacts. She pressed four keys and waited. 

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Voicemail.

Bela rolled her eyes as she hung up, annoyed but not discouraged. Lilith wasn't the only demon she read about when she got home. A summoning ritual would only take a few minutes.

Some candles arranged just so, a sigil drawn directly onto her coffee table, a few specific ingredients gathered in a bowl, and Bela took her time with the incantation, the Latin rolling off her tongue carefully and deliberately. This had better work…

"Bela Talbot. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She glanced up from the spell at the sound of his voice. He stood a few feet away with his hands buried in his coat pockets, regarding her with a neutral expression on his face. "You could have just rang, darling," Crowley added.

"I did," she replied.

He checked his phone, frowning slightly before putting it away again. "My apologies. Poor reception. What can I do for you, love?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, shaking her head. "I don't suppose you can steal something for me?" she finally asked, her tone ironic.

"If I could, would I have asked you?"

"Of course not." She sighed, then stepped away from the coffee table, pacing again. "This is madness. I have a few weeks left to get that gun, no idea how to get a hold of it, and don't even know where its current owners are to take it off their hands."

"You summoned me to vent about this?" Crowley asked, sounding exasperated. "Bela, darling, as we speak, I've got several hundred underlings negotiating deals around the world, thousands of contracts to collect in the course of this week, souls coming in by the hour that have to go through processing before being turned over to the appropriate tortures, and I'm here because you're one of my queen's chief concerns. At least make taking the time out of my day worthwhile."

She gave him an irritated look, but he merely tilted his head at a slight angle as he regarded her, unfazed. "If the Colt is so important," she argued, "then any time taken to help recover it is surely worthwhile."

"Indeed. So tell me, how can I help?"

Bela turned the facts over in her head. Crowley was a salesman, true, and crossroads demons were only on the middle of the ladder of Hell's hierarchy, but if the Queen herself deemed him useful enough to make him her right hand, there had to be a good reason for it. He was shrewd, clever, observant, resourceful… 

"Can you help plan a heist?"

He looked politely surprised. "_Can_ I?" he repeated. "Yes. Can I help _you_ plan a heist? Technically…" He drew the word out, considering the answer, and she waited with bated breath. "Technically," he finally continued, "no. I can't. Sorry, darling. Your brains, your brawn, the whole nine. It's in your contract."

"What? Where?"

He snapped his fingers and a scroll of parchment appeared in his hand, unfurling to the floor and landing at his feet. He scanned the text, eyes moving from one line to the next, speaking softly to himself, "Let's see, it's here somewhere…"

Bela eyed the scroll with suspicion. "I've never seen that before," she told him.

"I should say you haven't," he replied, still reading. "This is Lilith's copy from my records. Feel free to follow along with yours."

"Where's-"

He snapped his fingers again and she felt her skin tingle; glancing down, she watched words appear on her hands and along her arms as if ink rose to the surface.

"Ah, here we are," he said. "_Bela Talbot, formerly known as Abigail, therein tasked with the retrieval of one revolver fashioned by Samuel Colt, gunsmith, hunter, et cetera_..."

"Where are you reading this?" she asked, examining her arms and pushing her sleeves back in search of the words.

"Your left side," he answered, "around your rib cage."

Bela glanced down at her torso and lifted the hem of her shirt to expose the tiniest bit of flesh in an effort to read what was written on it.

"Higher," Crowley informed her.

A little more, baring her midriff up to the underside of her bust.

He smirked. "Higher."

Bela lowered her arms and gave him a wry look. 

He shrugged. "Fine, then. Don't say I didn't tell you." He turned back to the scroll and read, "_Under her own power, acting in the best of her ability, so on and so forth…_" He released the scroll and it vanished again, along with the words on Bela's skin. "So you see," he went on, "if I help you, it's not under your own power, so you're all on your lonesome for this, love."

"But…" She watched the last of the ink fade as she considered what he told her. "But, it doesn't explicitly say I have to do it on my own."

"That's the implication."

"Which could easily be read the other way, as well. Under my own power and to the best of my ability doesn't exclude, say, third party assistance. Consultants, advisors, and the like."

He didn't answer right away, crossing the room to sit down in her lone armchair. She remained standing, though she followed to stand over him, adding, "Getting that Colt is a priority, yes? It's worth a flexible interpretation of the fine print, is it not?"

"One could argue as much," he agreed. 

"And technically, there's no breach of contract if you're only offering an occasional hand." She leaned down, a hand on each arm of the chair as she watched him like a cat intent on a mouse, though he seemed as unbothered by her posturing as a lion by a kitten. "If I bounce a few ideas off you, and you lend your input a time or two… It's a harmless loophole."

He smiled at her with his eyes moving up and down her confident stance. "I did wonder if you'd find it," he confessed.

"You left it on purpose?"

"Not hardly, darling. There are no loopholes in any of _my_ contracts. Yours is Lilith's doing. She's a brilliant strategist, but her business sense leaves room to be desired."

Bela perched on an arm of the chair and prompted, "Do we have a deal?"

He considered her, then nodded. "Yes, love. I believe we do."

If Bela was in any doubt about Crowley's intelligence, then working with him to steal the Colt dispelled it. He had more cunning in his finger than she could hope to acquire in a lifetime, and he challenged her to meet his example. She met it as best she could, and they sparked a battle of wits every time they exchanged words. 

True to his word, he refused to contribute to any plans she made, only offering his insight and leaving her to defend her stance. Every scheme of hers was dashed with a quirk of an eyebrow and a dry observation, and she countered with something a little more clever, a little more devious. It had been awhile since someone challenged her mind the way he did, and she welcomed the change of pace.

In the end, the plan was ridiculously simple. Use her circumstances to her advantage, exaggerate certain truths, and let the Winchesters distract themselves long enough to break into their motel. She was tempted to contact Crowley as soon as she had the gun, but she waited until she was home again. She wanted to see the look on his face when she told him of her success.

She made it through the door of her apartment and dropped her things inside the threshold, taking the Colt to the living room and lighting the candles on the coffee table. Her voice nearly faltered with her elation, but she held it steady. She looked down at the stolen gun and wanted to run cheering her victory. She did it. She won back her soul.

"Do you have it?"

She tried not to smile when she looked up to see him watching her expectantly. "You know, the Winchesters guard that gun like the Ark of the Covenant," she replied. "The chances of getting it from them are slim to none."

"And?" he prompted. "I'm a busy fellow, love, just get to the point."

"You wanted the best for the job. And a slim chance is all you need, when you're the best." She brandished the old revolver, finally giving a triumphant grin. 

A slow smile spread across Crowley’s face, and he lifted his hands to applaud. "Well done, darling," he said. "I knew you'd make me proud."

She felt her face flush with delight, relishing the pleasure in his voice.

He moved closer, his hand outstretched for the gun. "Let me see it." She offered him the handle and released the gun, her fingers stroking along the barrel as she withdrew her hand. Crowley’s eyes swept over the gleaming steel, appraising every inch. "Lilith will be _very_ pleased," he said softly.

"And you're not?" Bela asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"On the contrary, darling," he replied, shifting his eyes to her, "I couldn't be happier. This is likely one of the most powerful weapons on Earth, and it's always a joy to see you. But you're giving this to _me_, not Lilith, and I find myself wondering why."

Bela shrugged one shoulder. "She's not nearly as charming."

He smirked. "Indeed."

"And besides, _she_ didn't help me to get it."

"Ah, I see. It's a trophy."

"Perhaps. Anyway, if you have it, then Lilith has it, so there's no difference."

"No, there's not," he agreed, examining the Colt again. Bela watched, a little more intrigued by the moment. She had always liked guns, and the Colt was quite beautiful to look at. And in Crowley's hands… 

Her gaze moved over him, taking in the impeccably tailored suit, his suave, elegant manner, the aura of power and confidence he exuded, finally directing her attention to the antique revolver he held. Equally powerful and elegant, it fit him remarkably well.

He noticed her scrutiny and lowered the gun. "Something on your mind, love?"

Bela considered her response, then looked him up and down again, letting her gaze linger. "It suits you."

He smiled at her the way he always did when it seemed he was reading her mind. This time, however, it wasn't as unnerving or irritating. On the contrary, it saved her a few words. 

"Bela Talbot, you just bought back your soul," he said ironically. "What are you going to do next?"

She let her smile match his, her pulse quickening in anticipation. "I think that might depend on you."

"Oh? How so, darling?"

She took a few steps closer, reaching to trail her fingertips over the Colt in his hand. "You don't have to take this to Lilith right away, do you?" she asked.

"Oh, I see. It's all about the gun."

"It does help," she admitted, moving past the Colt and caressing her fingers across the back of his hand, stepping closer than ever, "but it's just a toy. It's only as good as the one playing with it."

He chuckled and the sound went straight through her, stirring heat in her veins and leaving her wet and yearning. "Do you like playing with toys, sweetheart?"

She shivered. His voice was soft and insidious, spinning myriad fantasies in her mind. But one pushed to the forefront of her thoughts. "I want to play with this one."

"Ah." The space between them shrank away a little at a time, and he tilted her face up with the muzzle of the gun. A flash of scarlet stirred in his eyes and he added, "My, my, Bela, you know _exactly_ what you want."

She nodded, her breath already coming a little shorter, her heart beating a little faster. He moved the barrel along her jaw, the cold steel provoking another shiver as he leaned closer, pausing when his lips hovered a scant inch from hers. She wanted to close the gap, but the Colt pressed into her throat, keeping her at a distance. 

"Take off your clothes," he ordered.

She obeyed, moving swiftly to cast off her sweater and toss it aside.

"Not so fast, darling." 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she moved slower and stripped with deliberate care, mindful of the way Crowley's eyes devoured every inch of skin she bared. She glanced through her lashes to see he had taken a few steps back to watch her with the Colt still trained on her. He reached with his free hand to stroke his cock through his trousers, and the sight sent fresh heat through her skin to settle between her legs. 

She lifted her gaze to his once she was naked, a smile on her lips at the lust in his eyes and a shiver running down her spine at the revolver in his hand.

He gestured with it. "Touch yourself."

She raised her hands and trailed her fingers down her throat. She kept her movements slow and languid, and the sensations were as pleasurable as the way his gaze followed her hands. It was as if he touched her without laying a finger on her. 

She closed her eyes and sighed when she reached her breasts. It was easy to imagine his hands against her skin, and her sigh turned into a soft moan at the thought of him kneading and massaging in her stead. She swept her thumbs over her nipples before pinching firmly, biting her lip to stifle her eager noise.

"Lower." 

Arousal had put more rasp in his voice, and her eyes drifted shut and her cunt ached in response. She reached down and slid her fingers inside to tease her clit. She opened her eyes again to see him staring at her more intently than ever. They carried on for a moment, eyes locked and hands stirring, then he strode forward and grabbed her wrist. He lifted her hand to his mouth to suck her fingers clean, and she relished his hum of appreciation.

"Delightful," he said, releasing her and reaching out to fondle her breast. "How else can you surprise me?"

Bela copied him and took his right hand, still grasping the Colt. She held eye contact as she leaned down, opened her mouth, and swirled her tongue around the muzzle of the gun. The metal was cold at first and the taste of oil and gunpowder was sharp and acrid, but she closed her lips around the barrel and took it as far into her mouth as it would go.

She didn't think she imagined his muted curse. He certainly seemed more tightly wound than he did moments before, by the way he groped her a little harder and licked his lips as he looked down at her. There was a loud click as he drew back the Colt’s hammer, and his hand moved to grasp her by the chin. "On your knees."

Bela's heart skipped a few beats and she leaned back off the Colt, then she knelt at his feet, his erection at eye level. She tilted her head to look up at him and reached to unfasten his belt, but he held the gun to her temple and she froze. 

"Hands behind your back, love," he said. 

She did as she was told and held still while he moved behind her. She heard the chink of his belt then felt the leather strip being slipped onto her wrists. He cinched it snug before snapping his fingers, sending slender black cords, spun out of thin air, winding around her body. Her arms were bound from elbow to wrist, and her calves were secured against her thighs. Additional cords fastened around her breasts and ran from her knees back to her ankles to keep her legs spread open. Another snap, and all the cords tightened. It was uncomfortable but not painful, and she couldn't move an inch.

Crowley moved to stand in front of her again, opening his trousers and taking his cock in hand. Bela swept her eyes along the shaft and smiled to herself. Crowley's meat suit was far from unattractive, but this seemed the likeliest reason he decided to possess it. He could have picked any tall, dark, handsome Adonis wandering the sidewalk_, _but_ of course_ he chose the guy with the biggest dick.

He caught sight of her smile and smirked. "I'm glad you're impressed," he said as he stroked himself. "Now, open your mouth."

She obeyed, and he slid inside, pausing when he hit the back of her throat. He moved his free hand to her hair and tangled his fingers into her strands, then lifted the Colt to her temple. "Suck."

Bela relaxed her throat and moved along his length, bobbing her head and working him with her lips and tongue. He gave a deep sigh that caught on a grunt of pleasure, then he lowered the gun and let it fall to the floor.

She tensed briefly, but he buried his other hand in her hair and assured her, "It's not loaded. Already took the bullets out while you were undressing." He breathed a little heavier and his grip on her hair tightened, urging her to keep working him. "That's it, darling," he praised, "that's perfect…" She contracted her throat to swallow the saliva pooling in her mouth, and he let out a loud groan. "_Fuck_, Bela…"

There was a ripple of magic at her cunt, fingers of warm energy toying with her clit and pumping in and out of her body. She moaned around Crowley's cock, and the vibration in her throat riled him even more. She couldn't move with the sensations, kept immobile at his feet, had no choice but to let him keep teasing her with his power while he fucked her mouth.

"Oh, that's what you want?" he asked, responding to her thoughts. "Darling, why didn't you just say so?" He changed his grip on her, one hand cradling her face and the other at the back of her head, and he snapped his hips forward to thrust into her mouth.

She wasn't ready for the abrupt motion and choked at first before she forced herself to relax, the magic between her legs coaxing a whimper from her as her body tensed with rising pleasure. Crowley's rhythm kept her breathless, and her eyes watered between the ache in her jaw and the pressure building in her core. He pushed farther down her throat with every thrust, and the sensations at her cunt had her ready to leap out of her skin.

"Is this what you wanted, love?" he asked, wiping away the spit and precum that had rolled onto her chin. "You look so beautiful, swallowing my cock like that...I won’t be able to hold back much longer…"

Invisible fingers reached to stroke her g-spot, and she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned aloud.

"Should I come down your throat? All over your pretty face? Or do you want me in your cunt?"

She shrieked at the finger of energy that moved to her ass, stroking at the ring of muscle before pushing inside.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you want." He pulled out without warning, and she coughed and gagged at the suddenness of it before she cried out at the magic working in and out of her.

He twisted his hands into her hair and tilted her head back to look at her. "What do you want, Bela?"

"Fuck me," she answered, her voice faint and hoarse. "I want you in my cunt."

The cords fell from her body and she went limp as the tension in her limbs abated, but he took her by the arm and hauled her to her feet, flinging her forward onto her couch. Her hands were still secured behind her with his belt, and with no way to catch herself, she slammed across the back of the couch, knocking the wind from her lungs.

He knelt behind her and shoved her legs apart, lining himself up with her entrance before thrusting deep, and she would have screamed if she had the breath. The size of him in her mouth did nothing to prepare her for this. He seized a handful of her hair and yanked her back against his chest, pounding into her and whispering into her ear. "Scream for me, Bela. I want to hear you."

The power tingled at her clit again and pushed her over the edge, and she threw her head back on his shoulder and moaned his name in a broken cry that rose into the scream he asked for. She felt his climax moments later and she sagged back against him for a moment before he pulled away.

Crowley loosened the belt and slipped it off her wrists before winding his arm around her waist and holding her to him while he stroked her hair. "Easy, now," he murmured, "just breathe...nice and steady...you were so good, Bela…"

Her mouth twisted into a lazy smile. "I see why Lilith is so fond of you."

He chuckled and released her, and she turned on unsteady legs to drape herself across the couch. "What happens now?" she asked, watching him tuck himself back into his trousers and replace his belt.

"I'm taking the Colt where it needs to go," he replied, straightening his tie and smoothing his hands over his jacket. He picked it up from the floor and examined it one more time. "You've done well, Bela. No one thought you could pull this off."

"I'm the best," she reminded him. She hesitated, then said, "I suppose I won't see you again, will I?"

"Well, strictly speaking, there's no reason for our paths to cross again," he answered, "seeing as you held up your end of the deal and I'm not collecting your soul in a few weeks." He paused, then glanced where she sat, carelessly draped but her face rapt, hanging on his every word. "But," he added, "you've proved your value, and I make it a practice to hold onto valuable things. I'll be sure to keep in touch."

"You're sure?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound eager.

"Of course, darling. I keep my promises."

Days went by without any word from Crowley or Lilith. Bela hardly dared hope she was truly free from her deal, with or without having gotten the Colt, but the more time passed, the more likely it seemed.

A weight lifted from her shoulders, her burden finally made square. She had paid her debt, her deal was terminated, and for the first time in years, she could think about the future.

Maybe she should travel. There was more of the world she hadn't seen that was open to her now. The skills she had honed over the last ten years could be turned in new directions. She could pursue an acting career or become an entrepreneur. She could make a business of buying and selling supernatural artifacts, a _real_ business. She could keep running scams, if she wanted to. The future was what she would make of it.

It seemed a little strange to her, but she found herself missing Crowley every now and then. It was ridiculous--he was a demon, after all--but he was also brilliant and charming, and she had grown accustomed to him during their time together. Not to mention, he was the best lay she ever had, his centuries of experience put to good use. _Very_ good use, she would say, and the longer she thought about it, the more she wondered if he would be open to an encore performance.

She was tempted to call him, or to summon him. Not just to see if he wanted to shag, she told herself. Of course not. She also wanted definitive confirmation about her contract. She couldn't put it out of her mind, and _somebody_ had to tell her. It might as well be the King himself.

She picked up her phone and started to dial.

"Bela Talbot."

The name sliced through the air like a new razor, and Bela felt a chill at the tone. Cold. Dark. Unforgiving. Not at all like it belonged to the child it came from. Bela turned slowly toward the voice to see Lilith standing a few feet away, wearing a new blue dress and emanating an aura of menace. One look at her, and Bela knew it spelled disaster.

She advanced toward Bela, who took several steps in retreat. "Where's the Colt, Bela?" she demanded. 

Bela moistened her lips, her throat gone dry with fear. "Crowley," she began, then cleared her throat and tried again, "Crowley has it."

"Why does Crowley have it?"

Bela's heart raced and she felt her blood turn to ice water. "I gave it to him."

"_Why?_ We had a deal, Bela. You steal the gun, and give it to _me_. Not Crowley. Not anyone else. _Me_. Didn't you read your contract?"

The small voice echoed through the apartment like it belonged to someone much larger and Bela took another step back. Lilith kept moving toward her and the color slowly drained from her eyes, a pale film glossing over the irises and pupils. And the look on her face… No little girl should be capable of looking like that, like she could flay the skin off your back and play dress-up with it, or rip the heart from your chest and laugh to watch it stop beating. 

"You're not playing nice, Bela," she said, a child's pout warped with a monster's malice. "This is _my_ game, remember? _I'm_ the one who makes the rules. If you don't want to follow them, I don't want to play with you."

"I...I've already done what you wanted," Bela replied, trying not to stumble over her words though her heart was racing fit to burst. "You wanted the Colt, and I gave it to you-"

"No, you gave it to _Crowley_. I told you _I_ wanted it, and you gave it away!"

"It's the same difference! You have the gun, now you have to-"

"I don't _have_ to do anything, Bela Talbot. Not if I don't want to. And right now, I want to teach you who's game this is."

"Lilith, please, I-"

The girl's eyes flashed white and the words died in Bela's throat when Lilith opened her mouth and white smoke came pouring out, speeding toward Bela to consume her.

It was...it was all wrong. A disease taking hold of healthy cells. A parasite overwhelming its host. Pollution choking out a fragile ecosystem. She was locked inside herself with something else, violated and powerless. She could feel her own terror, as well as the darkness surrounding the thing inside her.

_Ooh, I_ like _this body_. 

She didn't recognize the voice without the little girl to speak through. It was as slick as spilled oil, black and toxic and smothering everything it touched. It moved her body without her compliance, lifting her arms and staring at her hands. Bela could see her open palms and outstretched fingers, and the thing inside her made a strange, purring noise Bela felt inside her chest. Lilith used her vocal chords to laugh.

"You're so _pretty_, Bela." Her own voice sounded in her ears, but that other voice was in her head, using the same innocent, naive tone Lilith used. "So grown up...I should hold onto you for awhile. You can do so many things that a little girl can't. You can say what you want, do what you want...

"It's going to be sad when Mr. Crowley's doggies come to tear you apart."

Bela was like a puppet guided by invisible strings as Lilith moved her hands along her body, combing through her hair, caressing Bela’s fingers along Bela’s throat and grasping her breasts, squeezing harder than Bela ever would have on her own. 

"I know what you did when you gave him the Colt," Lilith said, "that thing mommies and daddies do. No, wait," she broke off and laughed again. "I forgot. You know all about what daddies do, don't you, Abbie?"

Dread and panic swept over Bela. She tried to force her own arms back to her sides but couldn't manage to even wiggle one finger. As far as independent movement went, Bela might as well have been paralyzed, unable to choose what her body did. Lilith reached underneath her shirt and pushed her bra aside, pinching Bela’s nipples until she would have cried out if she could.

"You liked it, didn't you? What Crowley did? Tying you up, putting his cock in your mouth, making you beg for it in your cunt?"

Her hands moved down, unbuttoning Bela’s jeans and slowly lowering the zipper one tooth at a time.

"It made you so wet, didn't it, Bela? He was so good, you'd let him do anything he wanted to you. He's always been a good fuck, you know. He was mine for awhile, and I swear, Bela, whenever I remember him like that…"

Slipping her hand into Bela’s jeans and panties, Lilith stroked Bela’s fingers along her slit.

"...I just can't help myself."

Lilith shoved two of Bela’s fingers into her vagina, working them in and out. Without any lube or her natural juices, the friction was harsh and rough, and Bela cringed inside herself at the sensation.

Lilith worked her until Bela struggled vainly against the feeling of her walls chafing and tearing. She had never felt so helpless, even when in her father’s clutches. Her terror choked out the pain of Lilith's violation. It couldn't mask the rage, though. It was not wholly her own, even if she was its unwilling host. Everything that was the Queen of Hell pulsated through Bela, and she might have spoken lightly before, but Lilith was _furious_.

"You don't like this, do you, Bela?" she asked, scraping deep with perfectly manicured fingernails, and Bela writhed and screamed in perfect silence. "You wouldn't like the orgies in Hell, then...all blood and pain and fury. Demons feel things a little differently, you know. For us, the greatest agony is the purest ecstasy."

Something warm and wet ran down her fingers, easing Lilith's probing, though Bela could feel the ripped flesh all the same. She cried again and Lilith laughed joyfully, scratching even deeper inside her. "Oh, _fuck_, Bela, doesn't that feel so good? Don't you want more?"

_No! No no no!_

Lilith ignored her and added a third finger, then a fourth, stretching her wider and wider and pushing until something tore, and there was even more pain, even more warm blood trickling over her hand. "Bela, sweetie, you're good for a human!" Lilith praised. "I haven't played like this in awhile!"

_Lilith, please stop! You're in charge! I get it! Just stop!_

"Oh, honey, I'm too fired up now! You can't get me started and not let me finish!" Bela's hips bucked and thrust as Lilith rode her hand, making her laugh and moan while Bela pleaded for mercy. "Ugh, damn it, something's missing," she said as she slowed to a stop. "I think we can make this a little hotter…"

She withdrew her hand and walked through the apartment to the bathroom, and Bela recoiled at the sight in the mirror--milky white eyes stared out of her face, her hand was red with her own blood. Lilith searched the cabinets and the linen cupboard, opening a drawer with a hum of satisfaction before taking outt a curling iron. "Now, _that's_ more like it…"

Not a single tear fell from her eyes, but Bela sobbed in pain and terror. If she could just think of something else, focus hard enough on anything other than this…

"Oh, no, Bela, you're staying right where you are," Lilith told her. "You're playing with me, now. And I want you awake for this." She plugged in the curling iron and took off Bela's jeans and underwear. Bela tried to take her mind somewhere else, but she was trapped with the demon in her body, and there was nowhere for her to go.

She felt cold metal pushing into her vagina, deeper than Lilith could reach with her hand. It poked against her cervix before Lilith thrust with the iron, slamming it as far as it could go. Her cry of pleasure mirrored Bela's scream of agony. 

"No one's ever fucked you like this, have they?" she asked, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. "No boyfriends, no hookups, not even Crowley or your daddy. This is just you and me, and you're not going to forget it!"

Then, she turned on the curling iron.

It was hard to say when the pain changed, when her body was hot, not with the tearing and ripping of the tool being dragged relentlessly in and out of her, but with the sear of the iron. Even as Bela caught the smell of burning flesh, Lilith didn't slow. She laughed rapturously as if the terrible pain Bela felt was the most exquisite pleasure. 

"Do you understand now, Bela?" she asked. "You do what I want you to. Even if I have to use you to do it myself." 

She withdrew the curling iron and let it clatter to the floor, and Bela wanted to collapse along with it. There was blood up and down the barrel, dried into rust-colored smudges on the heated metal. Bits of skin that had blistered and ripped away were stuck--_cooked_\--here and there.

Lilith tutted down at it. "That's going to leave a mark, isn't it? Let me see…" She jammed two fingers inside again, and Bela wanted to throw up both from the sheer pain of the touch against the burned skin and from disgust at what she felt. Blood crusted at the edges of scratches that had been cauterized. Her walls were so blistered that it felt like her opening was swollen shut. The skin held the heat of the iron, and her nerve endings shrieked with Lilith's probing.

"Ooh, Bela, that's going to hurt for a _long_ time," Lilith taunted, slapping her labia. "Might want to get that checked out." She straightened and faced the mirror again, and Bela was almost too shell-shocked to notice the demon's white eyes. "Betray me again, Bela Talbot, and there won't be a force in Heaven or Hell that will save you. I'll have you begging for the hounds to take you before I'm done with you. All those silly contracts? They're worthless. I'm not bound by deals and negotiations. I'm the Queen of Hell."

They stood before the mirror for another moment while Lilith regarded Bela's reflection. She hummed thoughtfully, then said, "I'm a merciful queen when I want to be. I'll be nice and give you one more chance for your soul, Bela. One. I want you to kill Sam Winchester."

Whatever brief hope flickered in Bela’s heart died almost as soon as it was kindled. Kill Sam? Impossible. She was sure to fail.

"Don't be so gloomy," Lilith scolded. "It's been done before, but you'd better hurry. Your contract is almost up." There was a flash of white light and a feeling like an infection being drawn from a festering wound, and when Bela's sight cleared, she saw a cloud of white smoke speeding away through her apartment.

Bela toppled to the floor, feeling spent and numb for a few blissful moments before the agony of what Lilith had done to her rushed back tenfold, and she finally screamed her anguish.

Neighbors heard the screams and called the authorities. Before she knew what was happening, Bela was rushed to the hospital, where she was poked and prodded and examined and questioned until she thought she'd go insane. Could she describe her attacker? There was no forced entry, so did she let them inside? What did they use on her to leave such injuries?

_It was a demon. Her name is Lilith. She's thousands of years old, and more powerful than you know. She's possessing a little girl, and she possessed me and made me fuck my own curling iron._

If she told them that, they'd put her in a mental institution. She kept her statement as vague as she could make it--she was in shock, so many questions at once was too overwhelming--and they finally left her alone, bandaged and drugged with enough painkillers to knock her unconscious.

_Almost_ enough. Not enough to overpower her desperation to get out as fast as she could. She had to talk to Crowley. He had to help her, he _had_ to.

Every step sent fresh pain coursing through her, but she persevered and dodged doctors, nurses, and security to leave the hospital. A stop at a payphone to call a cab, and she was heading back to her apartment within minutes. 

She made it to her living room before nearly collapsing in exhaustion, but the meds she took at the hospital kept the worst of the pain at bay. Her hands trembled as she arranged candles on the sigil painted on her coffee table, and she almost knocked one over in lighting it, but she steadied enough to finish the summoning ritual.

"Bela, darling, we need to talk. You can't-"

The words died as Crowley caught sight of her, face ashen and body quaking, eyes wild with distress. For the first time since she met him, he looked shocked. "What happened?" he asked.

"She was here," Bela replied in a hoarse whisper. "Lilith was here for the Colt." She clenched her fists as she stared him down. "What did you do with it, Crowley? You said you were going to take it to her!"

"That's not quite what I said, love. I said I would-"

"You were supposed to give her the gun!" She couldn't force her broken voice to scream, but she wanted to rage and curse at him, to hurt him until he understood a fraction of what she went through. "I _trusted_ you, you lying bastard! You lied to me, you cheated Lilith, and she came here! She was furious, she was-" Her blood went cold at the memory of the darkness swallowing her and manipulating her like a toy, and she couldn't go on.

Crowley sighed and started towards her. "Lilith has quite a temper," he said. "Consider yourself lucky your contract isn't up, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"What do you mean, isn't up?" Bela asked. "I got the Colt. I fulfilled my contract."

"Lilith grew some savvy and changed it. You didn't give her the Colt, so your previous agreement is voided. Your new terms are to kill Sam Winchester, no refunds, exchanges, or substitutions."

A wail rose in her throat and tears blurred her vision, distorting her view of him. "She can't do that! Crowley, you have to help me!"

"I can't." 

His voice took on a harsh edge and his manner shifted. Moments before, he seemed almost concerned and as sympathetic as she could imagine a demon to be. Now, he was cool and detached, uncaring and unyielding. 

"You didn't make that deal with me," he told her. "I can't release you from it. Lilith is second-in-command of all Hell, and she can pull rank on anyone, anytime she bloody well wants to. Devil take anyone who interferes with her plans."

"You're the King of the Crossroads-"

"And she's the Queen of Hell, Bela. What do you think I can do for you against her?"

A sob broke free despite her struggle to control it and tears spilled onto her cheeks. She dropped onto the sofa and clutched at her hair, her teeth clenched against the cries building in her chest. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, darling," Crowley replied, "I suggest you do what she wants while you still have time. And you're doing it on your own. If Lilith thinks I'm helping you, we're both finished."

"But...but how do I _find_ them?"

He shrugged dismissively. "Hire an investigator. Put their photos on milk cartons. Ask your bloody Ouija board. It's no concern of mine."

"_Crowley!_"

He rolled his eyes and moved toward the coffee table, a piece of paper appearing in his hand in time for him to set it down. "Rufus Turner," he said, "an associate of the Winchesters. Try giving him a call. He's as good a chance as any."

Bela took the paper, reading the number scribbled on it and clutching it like it was her last lifeline. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he told her, "to _anyone_. Don't call me. Don't summon me. And don't expect me to keep sticking my neck out for you. Understood?"

She nodded, wiping the tears from her face. 

"Best not to dawdle, Bela. You don't have much time."

"I know," she replied, but he was already gone.

Sex dolls. Not Winchesters. She tracked and hunted them and would have killed both Sam _and_ Dean, but they played her. She yanked the blankets off the figures in the motel beds and found rapidly-deflating sex dolls, and she fleetingly wondered whose idea it was between the brothers. 

She sat down on one of the beds, her last hope snatched away. That was it. She was going to die.

"Well, darn, Bela. I guess you tried."

She gave a start of fright at the sound of the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice. 

Lilith stood at the foot of the bed, though she soon moved to sit down next to Bela, who flinched. She leaned her head against Bela's shoulder and gave her a gentle pat on the back. "There, there," she said, "it's not as bad as it seems. An eternity of torture and despair is pretty straightforward, with no nasty surprises."

There was a howl in the distance, quickly followed by another. Bela closed her eyes and covered her ears, though she could still hear Lilith talking beside her. 

"Don't feel too bad, Bela. Sure, you failed, but it would have been for nothing anyway. Once Lucifer is free, it's game over for everything. No more Heaven, or Earth, not even Hell. My master is tired of the place, you know. He wants to start from scratch and wipe out all the demons and the pathetic little souls down there, then he'll rebuild it to be the greatest empire in Creation. It's just a shame you won't be around to see it."

Shock pierced the fog that had enveloped Bela since shooting the dolls. "What do you mean?" she asked. 

"I already told you once, goofy. The contracts are all worthless. There won't be any more of them once _he_ takes over. No demons, no damned souls. It'll be a brand new Hell."

_I'm not bound by deals and negotiations._

Lilith had lied. She lied to all of them.

She gave Bela one last pat on the back. "I'd love to stay and watch the hounds get a piece of you, but I'm a busy girl these days." She stood up and put a hand to her ear, listening to the baying outside the room. "It sounds like your contract is due for payment…bye-bye, Bela. It's been nice knowing you." And as suddenly as she appeared, Lilith was gone.

Bela sat frozen, turning the words over in her mind. A new Hell, starting from scratch, destroying every soul and every demon. Whatever victory they were working towards, they would have no part in the aftermath. Lilith would have no reason to lie to her, not with her death waiting on the doorstep.

She had to warn Crowley.

The howls were getting closer. Bela blinked away tears of terror and tried to stay calm. The hex bags were still in her purse, along with the devil's shoestring Crowley gave her and a jar of goofer dust.

Snatching the jar, she unscrewed the lid with trembling hands and went to the door, pouring a line of dust onto the floor. She warded the window as well, adding the last of the shoestring for good measure. Standing back in the center of the room, she listened as the growls and snarls sounded through the walls. A shrill whine of panic filled her mind while her desperate tears finally fell.

She reached for her phone and dialed Crowley, and he picked up right away.

"Bela. Sweetheart." Smooth as ever, but a note of curt finality put a hard edge on his words. "You knew the terms. It's time to pay up."

"No, listen," she insisted, "Lilith lied to you. Once Lucifer is free, Armageddon is on, and if he wins, Hell is finished. He'll destroy it along with everything else, down to the last demon. You'll _all_ be wiped out, Crowley."

There was silence on the other end, but the sound of scratching on her door compensated, and she clutched her phone tighter until she was afraid she would break it.

"Are you sure?" he finally asked, soft and serious.

"Of _course_ I'm sure!"

"How do you know?"

The hounds barked outside, startling her into nearly dropping the phone. 

_"Bela?"_

"She told me herself. The bitch was just here, gloating about it."

He sighed through the phone. "That lying, white-eyed, vindictive whore…"

The barking and scratching grew louder and she thought she might pass out from sheer terror. "Crowley, _please!"_

"I'm sorry, love," he replied. "There's nothing I can do."

There was the sound of heavy, snuffling breath under the door, and she watched the goofer dust blow and shift out of the line she put down.

"Thank you for the warning…"

The shoestring rustled as the hounds disturbed it.

"...and I promise you, I intend to act on it…"

The herbs tumbled from the door.

"...but you know as well as I do…"

The barking, the growling, the scratching stopped.

"...a deal's a deal."

There was a crash as the door flew open, ripping the deadbolt out of the wall, and the window shattered with a spray of glass. Bela's scream died in her throat at the sight of the monstrous dogs before her, larger than any dog she had ever heard of, reeking of death and brimstone, their bodies distorted through the thick, black smoke surrounding them but their eyes glowing red with hellfire.

"There's usually only one," Crowley said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "One is all that's required, strictly speaking, but it's slow and messy. Iago and Tybalt are efficient, it should be over quickly." He paused a beat, then his voice softened slightly. "I'll see you Downstairs one of these days."

The hounds snarled and leaped at Bela, and the phone fell from her hand. One latched onto her arm, teeth sinking deep while its claws raked across her chest and belly, ripping her open and sending her to the ground, and the other dove for her throat, burying its muzzle in her flesh and tearing into her vocal cords, killing any sound she might have made.

She tried to draw a breath but choked, tasting something warm and metallic.. The hounds still tore at her, but she barely felt it anymore. She ignored them and instead watched her blood spill onto the carpet. The pain felt miles away. Her entire body felt miles away, lost beneath a wave of cold that couldn't be farther from the life slipping from her, or the fires she was speeding towards. She watched the dark stain beneath her grow larger and darker until the darkness eclipsed everything else, and even the cold faded away into nothing.

Time didn't exist in the Pit, not the way it did on Earth. Eternity was measured in screams, long stretches of agony and torment that ended long enough for the damage to the soul to be allayed, long enough to give one hope that it had stopped for good, before the nightmare began anew.

Bela didn't know which was worse, her time on the rack with whatever black-eyed fiend was assigned to torture her, or her time in her cell where she relived every trauma she ever endured. Whips, knives, and hot irons wielded by hands that took joy in making her wail and weep until she forgot her own name weighed against lonely torment that gave her no rest, Memories of Lilith and her parents led the assault on her mind until there was nothing she wouldn't do to cast off everything she ever was. They broke her down, stripping her of every vestige of humanity to leave a bare foundation from which to build her up into one of their own.

She lay curled up and shivering on the floor of her cell while her thoughts chased each other in a downward spiral from one sorrow to the next, peppered with flashes of her last term on the rack. Her torturer had flayed her and wore her skin like a cape before he poured hot pitch over her body and set it on fire. He leaned close while she burned with a gleeful smile on his face and said, "You want a break from all the fun we're having, sweetie? You want to have fun with someone else? We could find you fresh meat to play with, and I could show you how to have a real good time…"

She was too lost to the pain to answer, but if--when--he asked again, she wouldn't hesitate. There was no price too high to end her suffering.

The scrape of the bolt on her cell door followed by the whine of the hinges as the door opened distracted her, and she looked up at the intruder, shrinking away from their approach. Footsteps against the stone floor drew nearer, but she kept her head down and didn't look up until she heard a familiar voice.

"Bela, darling, it's been too long."

She hesitated, then lifted her head and looked up at him. He was exactly as she remembered him, though as with the rest of her memories, only the darkest ones remained to her. His name tried to slip through her grasp and her voice was broken with prolonged screaming, but she latched onto both with an effort of will she thought beyond her only moments before. "Crowley…"

He smiled down at her, just as he smiled while Lilith tortured her in that house. "I told you, didn't I?" he asked. "I keep my promises, love."

The last time she heard that voice, the hounds were outside her door and he’d done nothing to save her. He’d listened while they tore her apart when he had the power to call them off.

He lowered himself to the ground and sat back on his heels so they were on a level with each other, and she flinched away from him. She could still hear him while she begged him for help after Lilith possessed her, indifferent to her pleas and turning his back on her.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he assured her. "On the contrary, I need your help. You were right, darling, Lilith conned us."

At the sound of her name, Bela moaned in dread and ducked her head again, making herself smaller.

"She's dead," Crowley added, "but that was part of her plan to free Lucifer. It's Armageddon, love, and we're doomed if he wins, just like you said. We need to stop him, and I want you to help me. I need eyes and ears in Hell that I can trust."

She let his words wash over her until he reached out and brushed her hair away from her face. She froze at the touch, the first gentle one she received since finding herself Downstairs. 

"What do you say to one more deal? Join me, walk out of this cell, and help me beat the Devil. Come off the rack for good. When we win, you'll be my right hand."

There was no hope left in her, but in its place was the certainty he meant what he said, and the desperation to take what he offered. More memories crept back in, the two of them working together to achieve what she thought impossible. He had yet to lie to her, or break a promise…

He held out his hand, his eyes turning red. "Do we have a deal?"

She nodded and took his hand, and he helped her to her feet. There was a surge of power through her, a wave of heat that erased the pain in her body and washed away her fear and anguish. New strength flooded her and healed her wounds with every step she took at his side. It reconstructed her one piece at a time with no room for weakness, her cunning and resourcefulness not only restored, but reinforced. 

It was nothing like being possessed. The rage felt familiar, and she recognized the darkness filling her, but it was no violation. It was _her_, and she welcomed it. She wasn't a puppet or a plaything anymore, and she would never be powerless again. As Crowley's right hand, she was sure to rise along with him.

Her lips twisted into a smile as they crossed the threshold and left the cell behind. It was a new world. At least, it _would_ be, and she would embrace what they made of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Art master post found [here](https://slytherkins.tumblr.com/post/187612928178/now-youre-probably-thinking-to-yourself-hey).


End file.
